Life's Little Curveballs
by SGAFan
Summary: Missing scene for 5x06: The Shrine. What exactly happened when the team went to check in with Nichol’s team, and emerged from the Stargate underwater?


_**Life's Little Curveballs**_

_Missing Scene for 5x06 – The Shrine_

The only thing John could think of as he approached the event horizon was just how much Rodney fit Grandma Eunice's old saying about 'the pot calling the kettle black'. _Seriously? Did McKay just accuse Nichols of being arrogant?_ He drew in a deep breath, just as he always did, a split second before he entered the wormhole.

In the not so distant future, he'd look back on that moment, and wonder if it saved his life.

So many stimuli hit him the instant he exited the wormhole that he felt like he'd been run over by a freight train of sensory overload. He couldn't see. He couldn't breathe… and he had to fight not to instinctively inhale against the absolute cold that struck through him like a knife.

Confusion paralyzed him as his arms floated out from his sides and his feet left the ground, but that confusion was chased away as the facts and his perception stacked together like building blocks, leading him to the only conclusion that made sense.

He was underwater.

Moving his arms vigorously, John kicked himself upwards, instinctively seeking the surface and the precious air his neglected lungs were already demanding. The cold sapped him, his muscles already fatiguing as his head broke the surface, his inhale noisy and desperate. He could feel the oxygen rich blood coursing through his body and for a moment, he wasn't sure which was colder, the air or the water.

John twisted around, his eyes scanning the surface. "McKay? Ronon? Teyla?" He shouted.

One after another three heads popped up through the water, loud gasps echoing around him. Rodney was the last and John moved towards him as the scientist gagged and choked. "McKay!"

"I got him." Ronon drifted up behind Rodney and supported him as he coughed a few more times before drawing in a deep lungful of air.

"What the hell?" Rodney managed.

John shook his head. "No idea." He fought chattering teeth, his mind racing as the wormhole disengaged, plunging them into an eerie moonlit twilight. The water was cold. Damn cold and first on his growing list of priorities was getting his team out of it. He looked around, his gaze seeking somewhere… anywhere they could get on dry land, but the valley was huge and land was farther away than any of them, he begrudgingly admitted, were capable of swimming in the current conditions. "Gotta dial Atlantis. Get help."

"And how do you plan on doing that?" Rodney answered, his voice slightly stronger. "The DHD is **underwater**."

John looked down his gaze trying to penetrate the dark water. _Where the hell is the DHD?_ He had a rough idea, but pinpointing it in the dark was daunting to say the least, and he didn't relish spending a lot of time submerged in water he swore was only a few degrees above freezing, looking for it. "I'll dive down to the DHD and dial out. We can get Woolsey to send a jumper to hold us over until the water recedes."

"John…." Teyla's voice was filled with as much concern as her expression held.

He looked her directly in the eye. "No choice."

"You do realize that if you can find the DHD, and if it actually works, since we've never tested whether or not DHD's work underwater…."

"We dialed in," Ronon interrupted.

Rodney glared over his shoulder at him. "That doesn't mean we can dial out!" He returned his attention to John and picked up his monologue like he'd never dropped it. "… and if you manage to dial Atlantis, the vortex of the establishing wormhole is going to vaporize everything in its path?" Rodney pulled away from Ronon and drifted closer to John. "Even if we manage to escape that, a tidal wave of water is going to come crashing down to fill the void? Do the words 'Moses, Exodus and the Egyptian army' mean anything to you?"

John grimaced. In his usual, abrasive way, Rodney did have a point. "We're not parting the Red Sea here, McKay. We're talking about what… thirty feet of water?"

"Area, Colonel. That's nearly 2 square meters of water!" Rodney retorted.

John ignored him. "You guys are just going to have to…." He splashed and waved vaguely at the dark silhouette of the very top of the gate that protruded from the water, "get on top of the gate."

"**Get on top of the gate?"** Rodney's expression turned disbelieving. "You want us to cling to the top of a gate that's **being dialed** and hope for the best?"

John distinctly felt a burn start in his fatigued and cold legs. He hardened his gaze. "Yes. Unless you can give me another option, right now." he answered flatly. "Because the longer we wait, the colder we're all going to get and the harder this'll be."

Rodney glared at him for a moment before he looked away. "Point…" he muttered.

"Then let's do this," Ronon answered. He looked at John. "Sure you want to do the diving?"

"Any one of us can. It does not have to be you," Teyla added.

John weakly quirked his brows. "Used to snorkel all the time when I was a kid." He suppressed a shudder. "Water was a lot warmer in Kauai though…." He shrugged as best he could. "I got it."

"John," Teyla was unmoving. "Rodney is right about the water."

He nodded. "I know. I'll hang onto the DHD." He smiled. "It'll be okay." His gaze passed between the three of them and he added a hint of command to his voice. "Get to the gate."

He stayed in one spot, treading water as his three team mates swam back to the gate and climbed up on top, each perched a little precariously, but solid enough, on its narrow width.

"Don't let any part of your body get in front, or behind the ring," Rodney warned. "Uhh… one other thing…."

"What?" John's gaze narrowed as Rodney stiffened.

"If you manage to establish a stable wormhole, the resulting pressure of water against the event horizon, could prevent the gate from disengaging. If that happens, Atlantis won't be able to dial back until after the 38 minute window is up."

John took a deep, slightly stuttering breath. "We'll have to take that chance. The worst that'll happen is we'll have 38 minutes before we have help, but at least we'll have it." He looked at the gate and tried his best to eyeball the distance between it and where he thought he remembered the DHD.

"Woolsey better have the shield up," Rodney added, "or this will turn out very… very bad."

"It's Woolsey we're talking about, John answered as he swam to his designated spot. "The instant an unscheduled, incoming wormhole hits the Atlantis gate, he'll have the shield up. I won't send my IDC so he'll have no reason to lower it." The answer sounded good, but he still feverishly hoped he was right.

His unsecured P-90, along with its light, was lost when he first came through the gate, so John reached into one of his vest pockets and pulled out a glowy stick. He smiled slightly. Okay, so it wasn't the official name, but glowy stick was easier to remember and he was into easy wherever he could apply it. He broke the internal seal and shook it hard. In the cold, the chemical reaction was sluggish, but with a little patience and a few more shakes, it finally lit up with intense, yellow light.

He took several fast breaths, before drawing in a deep one and, plunging his head into the water, he upended himself, kicking hard and forcing his body downward. He tried to tune out the cold, but every inch of water that surrounded him seemed to freeze against his skin and sent icicles through him. He turned his mind away from the cold and looked around trying to spot the DHD in the gloom. He kicked forward and down, angling himself towards, but slightly right of the gate. John continued his descent until he could see the valley floor and stayed on his path, searching for the DHD. Frustrated, he let himself drift upwards as his lungs burned, demanding more air. He broke the surface and inhaled deeply.

"You many need to move more towards your one o'clock," Rodney called, pointing.

John nodded, drew in several deep breaths before holding the last one and once again upending himself as he pushed down through the water. He took McKay's advice and angled more to his right as he descended and suddenly, he could see the DHD, dark and waiting for him. John smiled slightly and swam strongly towards it. He grabbed the edges of the DHD and if he didn't need his hands, he would've crossed two fingers as he reached for the first symbol. He pressed and closed his eyes briefly in relief as the symbol came to life, its amber light adding strength to the glow from his stick. John quickly entered Atlantis' address and paused, his hand poised over the center dome. He tightened his grip on the edge of the DHD and pulled himself around to the front, where he could get a good grip on the decorative prongs that protruded from the front of it. Holding tight with one hand, he pressed down hard on the center dome and fortified his grip with both hands as the gate activated.

In a way, he wished he could keep his eyes open and watch, what he assumed, would be a really cool event, but his eyes squeezed shut on their own accord as he fought to hang on. Water pulled relentlessly at him as he felt first the ebb and then the massive flow of water rushing into fill the vacuum created by the wormhole vortex. He'd been caught in rip currents surfing before, but nothing nearly as intense as this was. His grip slipped but he managed to hold on, tuning out the burning in his lungs as they screamed for air.

Abruptly, the massive turbulence around him dissipated leaving his body swaying gently in the currents. He let go of the DHD and kicked upwards, plowing through debris filled water. His head burst through the surface and he immediately sucked in a deep lungful of air. He coughed once and inhaled again, quieting his demanding lungs.

"John!"

He waved, the gesture answering Teyla's hail before he fumbled for his radio and activated it.

"Atlantis," he gasped, "this is Sheppard. Do not lower the shield. The entire tower will be flooded!"

"_I have no intention of doing that, Colonel. What's your status?"_

John closed his eyes in momentary relief as Woolsey's voice crisply answered him and he side-stroked towards the gate, holding tight to his relief.


End file.
